


Beautiful Disaster

by Dorktastic_N7



Category: Smallville
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-26 12:38:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15663393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dorktastic_N7/pseuds/Dorktastic_N7
Summary: It’s been almost two years since Emma moved in with the Kents and her life has finally found some sense of normalcy. So what happens when a stranger from her past comes crashing in?Crashed By Daughtry





	1. Crashed

 “Clark, you’re going to be late!” Martha Kent warned up the stairs. She stood in her kitchen, flour coated hands on her hips, slightly glaring at the ceiling. She sighed and shook her head, not for the first time today, at her son’s utter lack of punctuality. She turned again to her task of preparing her pie crust for baking. When she heard her frustration echoed in a huff, she glanced at her adopted niece.  
   
  Emma Cartwright sat at the counter, her honey blonde hair braided to the side, nibbling absently on a bagel. Her brow furrowed in concentration over her pale green eyes as she continued to scribble in a notebook. After a few more minutes of waiting she sighed as well and stood up, brushing imagined wrinkles out of her black, Nirvana t-shirt.  
   
  “I love him Aunt Martha,” Emma commented as she gathered her books and placed them in her messenger bag. It clinked as she hoisted it onto her shoulder, the front dripping with various buttons depicting her favorite bands. “But I refuse to be late again. Especially, if the reason in question can outrun my old truck.”  
   
  She did give him a few more minutes, however, before she finally gave up on her cousin, kissed her Aunt on the cheek and headed out the door. Jonathan Kent had just finished checking her oil when she walked up. The forest green ford, or “the Beast” as Clark called it, was in pretty good condition to be six years old. She was proud when she earned the money to get it by working at the Beanery, even if their coffee was shit.  
   
  “Clark oversleep again?” He asked with a small smile. When she just rolled her eyes and nodded in response, he shook his head and closed the hood. “Well your oil looks good, checked your spark plugs, and your tire pressure. You should be good to go kiddo!”  
   
  He squeezed her shoulders with one arm and opened the driver’s side door on the other. She smiled and threw her bag into the passenger’s seat as she climbed into the cab. The Beast roared to life beneath her as he closed her door. She was about to leave when she suddenly rolled down her window.  
   
  “Uncle Jon!” She called to him as he walked towards the barn, “Thank you, for everything you guys do for me. I love you!”  
   
  “We love you too sweetheart!” He replied as he smiled back at her over his shoulder.  
   
  Her smile widened as she waved goodbye and pulled out onto the long driveway. Once she was finally on her way, she sighed and let her mind wander. Jonathan wasn’t really her uncle, by blood anyway, he had been her father’s best friend since high school.  
   
  When her father had been killed in the meteor shower, the Kents had taken her and her younger brother, Jason, into their home. At least until all the legal mess was resolved and her Grandparents could be notified. Who, apparently, had no idea she and Jason even existed. They had not taken the news well at first. But after accepting the facts, they decided the children should live in Metropolis with them.  
   
  Her Grandparents were not monsters, but they were cold people and felt a clean break was necessary. When it finally came time for them to leave, Emma begged to stay. Of course, Uncle Jon argued that a connection to their father was necessary, and somehow he got through to them. So they had agreed, begrudgingly, to let her and Jason spend summers with the Kents.  
   
  Then, a few days before her fifteenth birthday, her Grandparents had died in a house fire. Jason, also passed a few weeks later due to his injuries. She had been left alone. She had stayed with her friend Sera for a few months but that hadn’t worked out either. She was at the end of her rope and felt completely alone. 

Then she received a call from Jonathan and her future didn’t look so bleak anymore. She had moved into the Kent’s spare bedroom and they treated her like family. She had lived there two years now and she couldn’t imagine herself anywhere else.

 

   
———————————————————————    
  She was almost to town when a rush of wind slammed into her truck bed. Glaring into the rearview mirror, she saw her would be attacker. It was a teenage boy with bright green eyes and a huge grin plastered in his face. She was going to kill him this time, for sure.  
   
  “Clark! You scared the hell out of me!” She bellowed as he maneuvered himself through the passenger window. He laughed and straightened his dark curls in the mirror.  
   
  “Sorry Em, I just thought this would be easier to explain to the guys. I mean, I did miss the bus again.” He  
explained as he pulled a corn cob out of his jacket pocket, his eyebrows creased in confusion.  
   
“What is that? Your peace offering?” Emma snorted as she returned her attention to the road. “Or is your appetite that insatiable?”  
   
  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He replied in mock offense, as he placed the cob in his bag.  
   
  “Says the boy who can eat three stacks of pancakes in one sitting.” She shot back with a smirk.  
   
  “It was four actually.” He mumbled as he ducked his head, trying to hide a blush.  
   
  “To be fair, I made it through two and a half before I gave up.” She said as she glanced at him.  
   
  His leg was bouncing up and down and his head was cocked to the side. He continued this nervous habit as they pulled into her usual parking space. She turned and noticed a crumpled slip of paper that had fallen on the seat beside him. 

“So, did Uncle Jon change his mind?” She asked  
innocently as she nodded to the paper. His answer was a glare that fixated somewhere out the passenger window. 

She couldn’t blame him for wanting to fit in, and joining a team or club would help in that. She had started Smallville High all alone, with a bit of a reputation as a trouble  
maker. That part had been disproven eventually, but those first few months had been hell. At least he had her, Pete and Chloe to keep him company in the ‘loser’ section of the cafeteria.  
   
  “Clark, you are going to be fine.” She promised as she put a hand on his arm, “ One day you will realize that the ‘cool kids’ and their parties are way less exciting than  
people think.”  
   
  “Haha…” He fake laughed as they exited the truck. “I know you’re right, I just … I wish I wasn’t so… you know.” 

  It was a topic they discussed often, as two teenagers with more than just puberty awkwardness to worry about. After all, how many “normal” teens can lift a tractor over their head or heal broken bones with their mind? As much as the Kents tried to be supportive, sometimes you just need to vent with someone who understands. 

  A familiar voice broke through their thoughts and they both headed towards the sound. Chloe Sullivan, a short girl with a platinum blond pixie cut and way too many rings and Pete Ross, a dark skinned boy with a bright smile and even brighter red jacket with were headed through the chain link gates ahead of them. They were still talking animatedly as Clark broke off in a jog towards the two.

  “Hi guys.” Clark greeted them sheepishly as he pulled on his backpack awkwardly. Chloe whirled around in clear confusion.

  “Uh… weren’t you just?” Chloe started, brows furrowed.

“I took a short cut.” He replied nonchalantly, fiddling with his stack of books.

“Through what, a black hole?” She snapped before Emma popped out from behind him.

  “Hey Chloe, Pete. You guys excited for homecoming?” She asked at first. Then she saw Chloe’s inquisitive look and Clark very obviously not meeting her eyes. “I gave Clark a ride this morning. The first time is free, next time you buy my lunch.” She gave him a look and he smiled in thanks. 

“Can’t a man be mysterious anymore? Between the two of you, there should be no mysteries left in this town.” He asked as they turned towards the building. 

“Clark, you'll have to excuse our intrepid reporter.” Pete said as he placed a hand on Clark’s shoulder, “It seems her weirdar is on def-com five. She thought someone was attacking the bus” 

  “Just because everyone else ignores all the weird goings on in the leafy little hamlet,” She snapped back, “doesn’t mean they don't happen.”

“What exactly happened Chloe?” Emma asked as she rummaged through her bag.

“Well, while Velma and Daphne head off on another zany adventure into weirdsville, we have business to attend to.” Pete said as he rolled his eyes and pushed Clark ahead of the blondes. “Clark and I have permission slips to turn in before home room.” 

“Pete I’m having second thoughts,” Clark stuttered as Pete pulled him away from the group, “Maybe signing up for the team is a bad idea.”

“Man, do you wanna end up as a scarecrow?” He whispered harshly, not really noticing Clark’s head snap up as he locked eyes with Emma. 

“Wait, are you guys are trying out for the football team. What is this? Some kind of teen suicide pact?” She asked before Pete grabbed her and pulled her to the side of the building. 

“We’re trying to avoid becoming this year’s scarecrow.” He whispered in a serious tone.

“What the hell are you talking about? And why are we whispering?” She yelled, shaking his arm off. 

“It’s a homecoming tradition. Every year before the big game, they pick a freshman, take them down to Riley’s field and …” He began as Emma butted in.

“They’re trying to avoid getting strung up in a field in their boxers,” Emma said in a quiet voice, “They also spray paint your chest with and ‘S’. Ya know, for Scarecrow. Apparently is a longstanding tradition. Probably because originality is a precious commodity in this backwards town” Pete and Chloe looked at her with furrowed brows, while Clark hovered close with a pained expression. 

“What?” Chloe asked, her face turning serious. “That sounds like years of therapy waiting to happen.”

“Why do you think we’re trying out for the team? We figured they wouldn’t pick one of their own.” Pete explained.

“Smart thinking, dumb if you tank tryouts and make yourself a bigger target.” Emma said, as she checked her watch. She looked up again to see Clark floating away into ‘Lana Land’, as Chloe dubbed it. He mumbled a goodbye and squared his shoulders as he made his way over.

“I give him ten seconds.” Pete said. As he pulled out a wrinkled five.

“Five.” Chloe replied as the three of them watched the sad display. Emma tuned out her friends and their somewhat insensitive betting game on her cousin’s life habits. 

She watched Clark though, he didn't make it far before falling on his face. She couldn’t understand it, he always acted weird around Lana. It made her sad in a way, he had set himself up for failure and didn’t even know it. He had to pick the one girl that wasn’t interested in him, and she was with Whitney. She sighed and headed to her own class, throwing a goodbye over her shoulder to the other two.

————————————————————————

“Hey, did you hear someone vandalized the trophy case? They just punched through the glass… Clark are you listening to me?” Emma asked as she jostled his arm. 

Apparently the answer was no, as he continued to just stare into space. They were sitting on the bleachers and working on homework. Well Emma was anyway, she was pretty sure Clark was on another planet. Which was why he didn't notice Pete walk up in full gear. 

“You're looking … protected?” She commented, trying to sound encouraging and failing miserably. He just laughed and adjusted some straps on his shoulder.

“You're just jealous cause I look so awesome, right Clark?” He asked before noticing the thousand yard stare, he grabbed Clark’s arm and yelled, “Hey Clark!”

“Gah! Uh… what?” Was Clark’s incoherent reply.

“I said how do I look?” He asked again as he puffed out his chest. 

“Like a tackle dummy.” He said with a wry smile as he gathered his things. “Good luck, we gotta get home and help with chores.” 

As Clark walked away Emma added, “Pete, don't take it personally, he's just a bit out of it today. See you tomorrow.”

On their way home, they stopped in town for a coffee, and Clark was still quiet. Sure he was always quiet. But this was a brooding, teenage angst type of quiet. Emma tried to cheer him up in the usual ways, most of them involved sticking straws in her ears. Eventually, she suggested a walk to clear his head. 

They found themselves on Loeb bridge, tossing rocks into the river. They didn’t talk but that's how Clark dealt with things these days, or rather didn’t. Emma climbed up on the railing and pretended to walk the tightrope. That got a laugh from him and she smiled at herself. Neither of them saw the approaching car, until the popping of tires drew their attention. 

Their was no time to react, well not for Emma anyway. For her, it was just a brush of hands on her shoulders and then freezing cold water. When she surfaced, she didn't see Clark at all. She was close to the river bank and reminded herself to thank Clark later. She was about to swim out further to look for him when he broke the surface, dragging an obviously, unconscious man with him.

She hauled herself onto dry land and immediately prepped a spot to put him. As Clark laid him gingerly on the ground, she moved to positioned his head on her folded jacket. Something pricked her mind as she looked at his face, a memory flitting just out of reach. But she mentally swatted it away so she could focus on saving his life.

She checked his breathing and pulse, nothing. She held up a finger to Clark as she pressed her mouth against the unconscious man’s and breathed into it. Reaching out with her mind, she searched for his injuries. She had learned from experience that the worst ones were best to heal before the person regains consciousness. Less screaming that way. 

She found the dislocated shoulder and popped it back into place, the collar bone was broken, cleanly, so that too snapped back into place. A few fingers were fractured but it was his neck that was the biggest issue, two vertebrae were practically shattered. Those took a bit more out of her, to meld the small, fragmented bones back together.

When she was done her head was throbbing, only a few seconds had passed but it felt like hours. And all her effort would be wasted if he didn't start breathing again, soon. She glanced at Clark and nodded. He immediately started chest compressions, counting to ten and moving quickly out of her way. 

“Come on, don't die on me.” Clark demanded of the unconscious man as he put as much strength behind his compressions as he dared. Emma still felt a rib or two strain with the pressure but they held and she breathed into him again. 

She felt him jolt back to life under her, and he almost head butted her as his body jerked up and spewed river water by her knees. He coughed and took a few gasping breaths before sitting up a bit on his elbows. Once he could see straight, he alternated stares between Clark and the bridge.

“I could’ve sworn I hit you.” He said, almost accusingly, in a deep, melodic voice. A hauntingly familiar voice at that struck Emma like a bolt of lightening.

“If you did I’d be… I’d be dead.” Clark’s reply trailed off as he turned back to the bent railing. 

The guy closed his eyes for a moment, then shook his head and looked around. It was then that he noticed Emma, who was awkwardly trying to ring out her hair. He stared at her for a long moment before she felt his eyes on her. She gave a small, reassuring smile as she moved closer. She stared into his eyes for a moment, those same eyes she remembered from that long night two years ago.

“Hi,” She finally said as she gently pushed down on his shoulder, “You should really be still until we know the extent of your injuries.” 

“I … alright.” He replied as she adjusted her jacket under him. 

His crystal blue eyes watched her as she looked him over again. He was a bit taller, but probably still shorter than Clark, with lean, wiry muscles she could see under the long sleeves of his gray shirt. He was still bald, but his face had filled out a bit. And still the same eyes, a little harder than before, but still strong as they bore into her.

Shaking herself back into the moment, she examined the small cut on his cheek. A superficial wound that she skipped over in her initial evaluation. But now it seemed to need her attention, or maybe she just wanted to touch him again. To make sure he was really here.

When her fingers brushed across his skin he grabbed her wrist instinctively. She locked eyes with him and they held each other's gaze for what seemed like an eternity. Thousands of conversations passed between them, all raw emotion and confusion. When he relaxed his grip, he gently rubbed her wrist with his thumb absently. Looking almost sheepishly at her through his sparse lashes.

“Forgive me,” He said as he continued to massage her wrist, “I just… I never through I’d see an Angel twice in my lifetime.”

She was blushing, she could feel it all the way to her toes. But he must really be out of it to be flirting so soon after dying. She gently pulled her hand away and leaned back a bit. He almost followed her when she placed a hand on his chest.

“It’s Emma and trust me, I’m no angel, and neither is Clark.” She said as she gestured towards him. He was still staring at the bridge.

“Yes it is, and please ignore that comment. I seem to have no restraint after near death experiences.” He replied as he laid back again. 

She sighed and went back to examining him, this time making a point to ask before touching him. He did allow it this time, with minimal flinching as well. He kept talking though, asking question after question. ‘Where did she  
receiver her training?’, ‘How does a high school student know so much about medical terminology’, ‘Do you intend to pursue a medical career?’. She answered with mostly nods or one word answers. It was definitely a front for his uneasiness but she let him have it.

She heard Clark talking to someone who had come across the accident. And before she knew it, the place was swarming with medical personnel, cops, and concerned townsfolk. She soon found herself sitting on the bumper of an ambulance with a red blanket around her. And now it was her turn to be poked and prodded. 

She could see Lex out of the corner of her eye. He was still watching her, and she could swear he was smirking. She simply smiled back and continued to answer pointless questions.

Eventually, Jonathan Kent arrived on the scene. Literally sliding down the embankment looking around wildly. He started yelling their names as he neared the bottom.

“Emma! Clark!” He yelled as he caught sight of his only child. “Son, are you alright?”

“I’m fine dad, we both are.” Clark replied as Jonathan clapped a hand on his shoulder. He looked over at Emma, searching for injuries before continuing. “Who was the maniac driving that car?”

“That would be me, Lex Luthor.” Lex said as he extended a hand to Jonathan. The awkward stare down felt like it drug on forever as Emma dropped her blanket and slowly made her way over to them. Lex’s hand dropped to his side as Jonathan pulled off his coat.

“Jonathan Kent, this is my son.” He finally said as he wrapped the coat around Clark. “And my niece Emma.”

“Thanks for saving my life.” Lex said towards her and Clark, who looked like he wished the earth would open up and swallow him.

“I’m sure you would've done the same thing.” He said meekly. Emma smiled knowingly as Jonathan ushered them towards the top of the hill.

“You've got quite an extraordinary boy there Mr. Kent,” Lex commented as they passed by, “If there's anything I can do to repay you-” He was cut off by Jonathan’s glare, as he stared him down again.

“Just… drive slower.” He replied in and an exasperated tone. He walked a bit further before turning to Emma. “Come on sweetheart, it’s time to go.” 

“I need to get my truck, it’s at the Beanery.” She replied as she stopped short, not wanting to leave quite yet.

“Straight home, understand?” He said roughly. Not waiting for a reply they continued their trek up the hill. Emma sighed and turned back to Lex, who was looking back at the river. The crane was just pulling the remains of his silver Porsche out of the water. It was an unguarded moment and as he stared at what could've been, he looked lost, in every way possible. 

He felt her staring and she saw as that familiar mask lock back into place. He turned to her as he pulled the red blanket off of his shoulders and wrapped it around her slowly. It was almost reverent, the way he made sure it covered her evenly. 

She only came up to his shoulder, but she figured if she stretched up on her toes. She could reach his lips. She was lost in her thoughts until she felt his hand on hers. He lifted it to his pale lips as a soft kiss caressed her knuckles. She suddenly felt weak in the knees, and could feel the burning of her cheeks.

“I wanted to thank you,” He explained as he stared into her eyes, “Clark may have pulled me out of that car, but you breathed the life back into me. How can I repay such a priceless gift?”

“You can’t,” She said once she could breathe again, “Besides, we’re even now. Uncle Jon is right though. You could stand to drive a bit slower, at least in the city limits.”

She smiled as she turned to make her own way up the hill. She had walked a few steps before realizing he was following, and still holding her hand. His hands were longer than her’s, with slim fingers that curled over her’s effortlessly. Like they were made to fit together.

“So where are you staying?” She asked with a wry smile as they made it to the top. “I'm working on the assumption that you aren't from around here.” She continued grinning as she repeated the same words he'd used then.

“Actually, my family has an estate here. I will be staying there for the foreseeable future.” He answered and he reluctantly released her hand.

“Planning on staying long?” She asked in what was hopefully a neutral tone.

“I suppose that's up to the citizens of Smallville.” He said with a wry smile of his own, “My father put me in charge of the local plant, as long as it does well I’ll stay.”

“Then I’ll have to put in a good word for you. I expect I will be seeing more of you then.” She said, hiding a smile behind her hair.

“I certainly hope so, Emma.” He almost whispered. She felt her heart flutter as he said her name softly, almost like a prayer.

“I guess I’ll see you around then, Lex.” She said as she turned towards Main Street.

She got half way across the bridge before glancing back at him. He stood rooted to the spot she left him, staring as she walked away. She smiled and waived, laughing to herself when he waived back. She smiled the whole way home, windows down, singing along loudly with the radio.

________________________________

Lex shook his head as she disappeared down the road. He briefly wondered if he was still unconscious. He replayed the events in his head, and it still hadn’t really sunk in.

He was headed from the flower shop, after ordering some plants for his new crypt/home. His phone rang and the next thing he knew, he was headed straight for Clark with no way to stop. He been looking the kid in the eyes as he hit the railing, hadn’t he? 

The next few moments had been a blur of colors and pain. Then he was flying, free as a bird over Smallville. He would’ve stayed there, if an excruciating pain hadn’t ripped through him.

Then it was spitting water, confusion and then … her. He was sure he had died and, by some clerical error, he had gone to heaven. Because how else could he explain fnding his Angel again after so long. He had been so sure he'd never be this close to her, have her touch him gently again. He made a fool of himself but he decided that nearly dying warranted some irrational behavior. 

Now, as he stood there staring after her, he started to panic. He almost broke into a run after her, until he caught sight of her honey blonde hair in the cab of a green ford. She waived sheepishly as she headed out of town. And in that moment he knew, he'd never let her go again. Now only one question remained, what do you get the person who saved your life twice?


	2. Secrets and Lies

The night of the accident had been surprisingly calm. Martha nervously fused over them while Jonathan gave a lecture about discretional use of their gifts. And Clark, he just stared out the window, pushing his food around his plate absently. He excused himself eventually and headed for the barn, his “fortress of solitude”. 

Emma just wanted a shower and a moment to think. As the hot water soothed the last bit of soreness from her bones, she replayed the day in her mind. The scarecrow conversation with Pete and Chloe, the football tryouts that Clark had sulked over, it all seemed so trivial now. But all the emotions and pain of the day seemed to melt away as she thought of him.

Lex, with his eyes made of ice and ghost of a smile, that had her mind and heart racing. She thought back to that night, when everything broken inside her seemed to begin to heal under his knowing gaze. She remembered the feeling of safety in his arms, how gently he held her hands in his, feeling that scar as she pressed her lips against his. She knew she had to see him again.

About an hour later, after scrubbing the river grime from her hair, Emma went in search of her cousin. She found him in the barn, shoulders hunched, staring out towards Lana’s house with a furrowed brow. She settled down beside him, dangling her feet out the window.

“So… you saved a man’s life today.” She started cautiously. When he didn't say anything she continued, “Are you alright?”

He sighed heavily as he turned to face her, eyes appearing sunken and dark in the moonlight. He seemed to stare right through her. She wondered if he could still see the broken railing of the bridge. 

“Clark honey," She whispered softly as she rubbed circles on his broad back. “Please tell me what’s wrong. I can’t help you if you don’t let me in.” He let out a long breath before he answered, his strained voice was barely a whisper.

“What if I can’t die Em?” 

The question caught her off guard. Sure they had discussed death before, with her past it was expected. But this was different, he sounded so utterly defeated just by the very idea that he would live forever.

“Clark, I don't have all the answers for you. I wish I could tell you for certain. But here's what I can tell you.” She said as she pulled his hand to his own heart. She could feel it beating against her fingertips, strong and steady.

“You have a heart, big and full of love. It beats just like mine, just like your parents’. You have blood pumping through your veins just like the rest of us. So yes, I think you can die Clark. I hate thinking about it, but I do think it will happen one day.” 

Her eyes teared up as he sat there staring out at the stars. He seemed calmer now, still uncertain but accepting the possibility for now. After a long pause, he turned and wrapped her in a bear hug. 

“Thank you, I’m so glad you're here. I'm not sure how I would make it without you.” He said as he released her.

“I’m sure you would be fine, Clark. A little bored maybe, but you would make it.” His face fell as his eyes met hers and he stood abruptly.

“Sure, just peachy.” He growled as he lifted her by her waist. She made a faint squeak of protest, as he slung her over his shoulder, tickling her ribs mercilessly 

“And I suppose you would survive without me too?” He dropped her still laughing form on the old couch and straddled the computer chair opposite her.” 

“You know I wouldn’t,” She wheezed, “and you don't have to manhandle me to make a point.” She rubbed her hip, it was more for show than anything and she couldn't keep it together when he looked at her with concern. 

“Oh jeez Em, did I hurt you?” He said as he saw her face, tossing a pillow at her. “Oh you are so funny!” 

Emma knew this conversation was far from over but she thought she’d encourage his childish side for now. Even as he initiated the world’s most epic pillow fight. Their laughter echoed through the barn, and out into the night.

________________________________

Emma trudged up the stairs leading up to the yellow farm house. She had just finished her shift at the Beanery and nothing sounded better than a long soak. She was almost at the door when she noticed the light on in the barn. Either Clark was forgetful today or, maybe he fell asleep

She got halfway there before she finally noticed a large red truck parked by the barn. She walked passed it, confusion clear on her face and almost ran right into Clark. His hair was wild from running and he had tear tracks on his face.

“Clark, what happened?” She looked him over for injuries she knew would be there, a habit from when he was younger and could bleed.

“Did you know my parents are liars?” The question was spat at her with such pain that she took a step back. 

“What are you talking about?” He raked his hand through his hair and then shoved them in his jacket pockets. He took a shaky breath before answering.

“Apparently I’m … an Alien?” He whispered, like if he said it out loud it would be true. She stared at him like he'd grown a second head, had he really just said alien?

“Clark, you aren’t making any sense. Maybe you should start at the beginning.” She tried to put her hand on his arm but he pulled away, pacing now into the barn. She followed slowly, giving him space to vent.

“When I got home today, that truck was in the driveway with a huge bow on it. It was a gift from that Lex guy, for saving his life and all. Well, dad said I couldn't keep it. We argued and I may have broken the wood chipper to prove a point.” He was speaking fast and getting louder. She put out her hand to calm him down again and this time he stilled a bit.

“Then he brought out this thing that he says is from my ‘real’ parents right? And he's being all cryptic until I straight up ask if they are aliens, as a joke. Well he wasn't laughing, he showed me the ship I landed in and everything. And the whole time I just couldn't get over the fact that they lied to me, for twelve years. How can you do that to someone, especially your child?” He threw up his hands and began pacing again as she took in what he said. 

“So … you are an Alien.” She knew her voice sounded strained but hell, this was stressing news. This changed everything that humanity thought they knew about the universe. “But how, you look just like …”

“What? You? Human? I know right, its nuts.” He was wringing his hands now, new tears rolling down his face. She reached out and grasped his hand in hers. He stopped and met her gaze, fear and hurt in his eyes.

“Clark, I know this is going to sound cliché, but you are still you. Nothing has actually changed, you just have more information now. And I don't see you any differently, you are still my friend, cousin, hell you are my brother damn it!” 

When she placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, something resembling a choked sob retched itself from his throat. Her own tears fell as she wrapped her arms around him. They stood there for a long time as he wept onto her shoulder. Millions of thoughts raced through her mind, questions without answers. The sun had set before he quieted above her.

“Thanks, you're my sister too. I’ve always felt that way about you.” He sniffed, untangling himself from her. He shoved his hands in his pocket and pulled out a card and a rectangular box. “Oh, this ones yours, if they let you keep it. I… I can’t be here right now.”  
“I understand, just be careful.” 

He hugged her again before speeding off into the night. She stared after him for a few moments before opening the card, it was handwritten in a twisted script. She read it aloud, if only to let the words sink it.

 

Emma,  
We must stop meeting like this. Please come by the mansion, I would like to thank you properly.  
LL

Once she had finished reading the card, she opened the white box to reveal a rose. She lifted it carefully and examined it in the light, the petals where a dark red crystal and the stem was a dark iron. It was beautiful in the most simple way. She wondered suddenly what he meant by a ‘Proper’ thank you. Or maybe she was reading too much into it and it was simply a paperweight.

________________________________

The next morning, Clark and Emma woke up extra early and drove both trucks to Lex’s mansion before school. No one answered when they buzzed at the gate, so Clark bent one of the bars so that they could squeeze through. The front door was unlocked, but Emma surmised that if the gate had been Clark proof, there would be no need to lock the door.

They wandered around a bit before the sound of metal striking against metal drew their attention. They found the source of the sound as two figures, in full fencing gear, danced across the space. One was obviously Lex, tall and lean, his attacks aggressive and calculated. The other was shorter and made smaller jabs to wear down his defenses. Emma watched intently as he circled his opponent like a lion ready to pounce. Unfortunately, his opponent was faster and soon had him against the wall, landing a hit over his heart. 

Suddenly, Lex flipped his saber and launched it across the room in frustration. It embedded itself about three inches into the wall, not a foot away from Clark’s head. He ripped off his face guard, face contorted with a mixture of horror and confusion.

“Clark? I didn't see you.” He breathed as he slowly walked over to them. Pulling the foil from the wall almost as an afterthought. 

“We buzzed but no one answered.” He answered sheepishly. At Clark’s words, Lex’s eyes trailed over and down until they fell on Emma. His demeanor shifted as he studied her and she tried not to straighten her clothes. 

“How did you get through the gate?” He asked absently. His eyes finally meeting hers as his lips curled into a smirk.

“We kinda squeezed through the bars.” She answered, blushing as he continued his inspection of her. “You know the front door is unlocked right?”

“If this is a bad time-” Clark began as he traded glances between the Lex and the other fencer. They had taken their mask off as well to reveal an older, blonde woman.

“No, I think Heiki has sufficiently kicked my ass for the day.” He replied as he made his way over to the woman, ripping off his glove in the process. He tossed his mask to her as Clark cleared his throat.

“It’s a nice place.” He said halfheartedly. Emma resisted the urge to face palm as Lex strode back over to them.

“Yeah,” He replied as he unbuttoned his sleeve, “If you're dead and in the market for something to haunt.” 

“I mean it’s roomy.” He tried again and this time Emma’s hand did meet her forehead.

“It's very regal,” She tried, mentally punching Clark for his awkwardness, “very fitting for the prince of Luthorcorp. Your father must love it.” He stared at her with an unreadable expression when she mention his father. She almost regretted speaking until he continued.

“It's the Luthor ancestral home, or so my father claims.” He said as he led them to a flight of stairs. “He had it shipped over from Scotland, stone by stone.”

“I remember, the trucks rolled in for weeks but no one ever moved in.” Clark replaced as he openly gaped at the large house.

“That wasn't the point, was it?” Emma asked as she hesitated at the bottom of the stairs. Lex gave her a surprised nod, his practiced mask melding into something resembling pride. When Clark still looked confused Lex elaborated.

“My father had no intention of living here, he's never even stepped through the front door.” He looked at Emma as he spoke, eyes wild with a playfulness she’d never seen. Like they were sharing a private joke and she blushed despite herself.

“Then why ship it over at all?” Clark asked, glancing at Emma in confusion.

“Because he could, because the people he views as rivals would see it as impossible. And he proved them wrong.” She replied, dropping her gaze to the carpeted stairs. “Old rich men do that kinda shit all the time.”

Lex nodded in agreement and continued his trek up the stairs in silence. They passed by several rooms, some closed, others open to reveal themselves to be bare. Emma wondered absently which one was Lex’s before mentally scolding herself. Finally they entered what seemed to be a workout room.

“So how’s the new ride?” Lex asked as he striped off his fencing shirt and dropped it absently on a table. 

He wore a tight, long sleeve, black shirt underneath and Emma’s mind wandered to what lie beneath. The rest of his gear would've looked ridiculous on anyone else, baggy white pants, tall socks, and suspenders. But Lex made it look like he was shooting a cover for fencer’s monthly, as he slowly slipped the suspenders off his shoulders. Emma made a point to stay in the doorway, griping the frame slightly to keep still.

“That’s why I’m here.” Clark answered meekly. Lex wrapped a towel around his neck and headed for a bar covered in expensive looking water bottles. 

“What's the matter? Don't like the color?” Lex asked lightly, a hint of sarcasm hardening his words.

“No, its not that.” Clark blurted out, “I can’t keep it.”

“Clark, you saved my life,” Lex replied walking back over to them. He pushed his sleeves up to his elbows as he continued. “I think its the least I could do.”

Clark dropped his head and Emma walked forward a bit, always wanting to comfort her cousin. Lex saw her then, the expression on her face painting a picture. He sighed and smiled sadly to himself.

“Your father doesn't like me, does he?” When Clark shrugged he turned and continued, walking over to an oval mirror. “It's okay, Ive been bald since I was nine. I'm used to people judging me before they get to know me.” 

He ran his hand across his scalp absently, staring into the mirror. He caught Emma’s gaze in the reflection and smiled softly. She stared back with as much empathy as she dared, hoping she didn't offend him. When he dropped his gaze, she made herself a promise that she would make him see himself the way she did. No matter how long that took.

“It's nothing personal,” Clark continued, breaking her out of her thoughts. “He's just not crazy about your dad.” He stiffened at that and Emma wondered just how much of the tabloid stories of the heartless CEO were true.

“Figures the apple doesn't fall far from the tree? Understandable. ” Lex replied as he turned back to them. “What about you, Clark? Did you fall far from the tree?” 

Lex wouldn't, couldn't know what nerve he just struck. And Emma cringed inwardly as Clark stiffened beside her. His breathing stopped and he blinked several times before she nudged him with her foot.

“Well we’d better go.” He finally said as he extended his hand towards Lex, dropping the keys into his hand. “Thanks for the truck.”

“Clark,” Lex called as they headed for the door. “Do you believe a man can fly?”

“Sure, in a plane.” He replied in confusion. 

“No, I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about soaring through the clouds, with nothing but air beneath you.” 

“People can’t fly, Lex.” Clark said adamantly.

“I did.” Lex replied with a wistful gleam in his eyes. “After the accident, when my heart stopped. It was the most exhilarating two minutes of my life.”

He turned then, looking fondly at Emma. His eyes found hers with ease and he seemed to be speaking only to her now. And she would swear, she could see his wings as he continued.

“I flew over Smallville. And for the first time … I didn't see a dead end. I saw a new beginning.” He stared at her as if willing her to speak, to prove her existence. She merely gave him a weak smile and nodded in assurance.

“Thanks to you two, I have a second chance.” He continued, walking over to them. “We have a future, Clark. And I don't want anything to stand in the way of our friendship.”

Clark looked floored at the thought of anyone, least of all a older, rich guy, wanting to be his friend. Lex stared at him in a way that nearly broke her heart, like all his hope was riding on Clark’s response. Before he could say anything, Emma spoke up.

“Of course we will be friends, right Clark?” She said as she elbowed him gently. He seemed to snap out of his thoughts and shook his head in agreement. 

Lex smiled a let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and walked over to the table again. He pulled out a remote control and moved to the window. Emma felt herself move there as well as he pressed a button. The front gates swung open as he turned to her in surprise. 

“Now you don't have to sneak back out.” He said simply, eyes meeting hers with intensity. Clark shifted behind them, clearing his throat to get their attention.

“We really should be going, we have class in thirty.” He said as Emma whipped around to face him, cheeks burning as she walked towards the door. She had almost made it when she heard a sharp intake of breath behind her.

“Emma.” He called to her softly as he slowly made his way to her. She nodded for Clark to go. He looked confused but nodded back. 

“I’ll bring the truck to the door.” He said, shooting her a strange look. She would worry abut him later. For now, she had a very patient Lex waiting behind her. When she slowly turned to face him, he was smiling softly.

“So, you didn't return your gift.” He said in a pleased tone. He watched her as she considered her words carefully. Sure she had thought about what to say. But there is a distinct difference when the person is staring at you. 

“I figured Uncle Jon wouldn't mind if I kept it, it’s not exactly a car.” His smile faltered slightly and she kicked herself. “I mean … what I'm trying to say is, thank you. The rose, it’s very lovely.” 

She was blushing again, and she felt like dying right there. She was surprised when she heard him chuckle. Chancing a glance at him through her lashes, she saw only kindness in those blue eyes.

“I’m glad you liked it, it was my mother’s.” He said softly. 

“Oh, Lex. If I'd known, I mean. Are you sure you want to give that away?” 

“She said it represented the beauty of life and the strength it takes to love something that will leave one day.” He continued, as if she hadn't spoken at all, lost in his memory. “It reminded me of you and … I want you to have it.”

She didn't know what to say, she couldn’t imagine having something of her mother’s and giving it to a stranger. But she wasn't, was she? They had been through some pretty intense moments with each other. No, not strangers. But what did that make them?

“I… don't know what to say. But I will keep it safe for you. I promise.” She replied finally, meeting his eyes with as much determination as possible.

He smiled again, her smile, and a boldness took hold of her. She reached out and cupped his face with her hand, rubbing her thumb across the cut on his cheek. She noticed absently that it was almost a scar now, and something in the back of her mind said it was impossible.

Her thoughts were interpreted when he leaned into her touch, his eyes falling closed as he sighed softly. He placed his hand over hers, slowly pulling her wrist to his mouth and placing a chaste kiss over her pulse point. His eyes snapped open again as he made contact, locking her into place in front of him. She tried and failed to form a coherent thought as her heart raced beneath her ribs.

The honk of a horn tore them out of the moment and he dropped her hand like it had burned him. She slowly cradled the hand to her chest, trying to catch her breath. They stood there for a long moment, both questioning what had just happened as the horn sounded again. She took a last, fleeting look at him before mumbling a goodbye and racing out of the room.


	3. Lost and Found

“I don’t know Chloe, this all seems a bit much.” Emma sighed as she sat back in her chair. 

Chloe simply smirked as she waived her hand to her computer screen. It displayed a missing person’s report dated a week before, with a clear image of a seventeen year old boy. The same boy that was on Chloe’s camera.

“Nothing in Smallville is ever as it seems, my dear Watson.” She replied in a decent British accent.

The end of the day found Emma sitting in the library, trying to wrap her head around the story Chloe had stumbled upon. She and Pete had stopped for coffee that morning and witnessed paramedics carting a guy out of the auto shop on a stretcher. Chloe, being the resident snoop, had snapped a picture of a suspicious guy at the scene. 

After a few hours of searching, they had found him in an old yearbook. His name was Jeremy Creek, and he looked like he hadn’t aged a day since in twelve years. They had been discussing ideas as to how it was possible, when Clark arrived. After another run down of the facts, the four of them sat in silence. Jeremy’s picture staring at them from the desk.

“That’s impossible,” Clark said finally, leaning his back against the table, “the guy would be like twenty-six today. It must be a kid who looks like him.”

“My money was on the evil twin theory,” Pete said, moving his hands animatedly, “until we checked his missing person report.”

“Jeremy disappeared from the state infirmary a week ago,” Chloe continued as she showed Clark the report. “He'd been in a coma for twelve years, suffering from an electrolyte imbalance.”

“That's why he hasn't aged a day.” Pete finished, moving excitedly to stand near Emma. 

“So you're telling me he just woke up?” Clark asked skeptically.

“No,” Emma answered, eyeing Pete suspiciously, “there was a huge electrical storm that knocked out their generators. When the power came back on, Jeremy was gone.” 

“Electricity must have charged him up like a Duracell.” Pete added.

“So now he's back in Smallvillle, putting former jocks into comas.” Clark said, folding his arms across his chest. “Why?”

“Because, twelve years ago they chose Jeremy as the scarecrow.” Pete said, glancing at Emma as he did. 

Her shoulders tensed but she kept her face as neutral as possible, wondering absently how Lex did it so well. She kept her head high as she stared right back at him. She knew she missed something when Clark spoke again, looking a bit alarmed.

“Show me what?”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A few minutes later they were all crammed in the Torch’s supply closet. Chloe stood in front of a massive cork board, covered in newspaper clippings. Every single one a bizarre story, ranging from two headed sheep to a guy with six fingers.

“I call it the wall of weird.” She said proudly as she splayed her hands, gesturing to her work. “It's every strange or unexplained thing that's happened in Smallville since the meteor shower. That's when it all began, when the town went schizo.”

Emma stared at the board with confusion and horror. It covered everything from crop circles to a two headed calf.  
She knew Chloe had an affinity for the strange but this, this was too much. And she knew Clark was wondering what she was, if there was a story about one of them up there. 

Her mind was filled with static and her mouth went bone dry. She knew that weird stuff happened here, but to connect it all with the meteor shower, with Clark. It was an odd thought, that more than just her life had been changed that day. That reality may have shifted with every crater. 

It wasn’t until Clark brushed past her that she snapped back to reality. She looked to the others for an answer but they seemed as confused as her. As her brain rebooted itself, her heart broke as she realized what he had been mumbling as he left.

“My fault.”

“Clark?” Pete called as he made to follow him.

“Don't,” Emma said as she put out a hand, “Ive got it. I’ll see you guys tonight.” 

With that she bolted after Clark as the last bell rang. It wasn't hard to spot his dark head moving through the sea of students, getting to him was a different story. She tried calling after him but her voice was lost in the chaos around her. After struggling through the crowded halls, she finally burst through the crowd and stumbled down the steps. She made it outside just in time to see Whitney sucker punch Clark in the jaw and to her horror, he went down hard.

She was running before her Clark hit the ground and landed a quick jab to Whitney’s gut. He doubled over as two other football players swooped in to defend their quarterback. They circled her slowly, throwing out insults as Whitney slowly made his way to his feet.

“Leave him the hell alone, Fordman!” She yelled as she dropped into a defensive stance. 

“Look we don't have a problem with you, Emma” He spat as he steadied himself. “But if you want to join your cousin, we can make this a fun time for the both of you. I wasn't there the last time, but I’ve heard interesting stories.”

Her blood froze in her veins as the other guys laughed. Memories slammed into her, the smell of the field, the frigid air, and their dead eyes as they laughed at her. She swallowed the bile that her thoughts had conjured and set her jaw.

“Leave him alone, Whitney. I won’t say it again!” She warned, trying to edge closer to Clark. 

Suddenly, an arm wrapped around her waist from behind. The stench of alcohol took her breath as her attacker hauled her off her feet. She clawed desperately at their arms as she felt herself being carried away from Clark. She tried to scream but they clamped a clammy hand over her nose and mouth. It wasn't long before the lights went out.

__________________________________________________________

When Emma came to, she was lying on her back in a sea of corn stalks. As her senses slowly returned, she remembered Clark lying on the concrete and bolted upright. That was a mistake. A sharp pain shot through her head and she dropped back to the ground. As she willed the pain away, she heard footsteps behind her.

“Well, well, looks like sleeping beauty is finally awake.” A voice above her slurred.

She knew the voice, Chad Fenton, a former linebacker before a knee injury sidelined him. He had been there the last time too. She hauled herself up on her elbows slowly, waiting for the world to stop spinning. She wondered suddenly where the others were, if they had already strung Clark up. 

“Don’t you worry ‘bout your cousin,” He mumbled, “I'd be more concerned with myself right now.”

“You don't scare me, Chad.” She spat at him, trying to keep him talking as she formulated a plan. 

Riley field was close to the Luthercorp plant. If she could get there, she could get help. But more pressingly, she had to get away from Chad. She knew she could probably outrun him in his current state, if she could keep from hurling anyway. 

“But Ross ain't here to save you this time.” He bellowed as he stumbled over to her. “You ain't got nobody out here but me.” 

She backed away slowly, trying to get a good hold on her senses. The last time she had been here it had James Ross, Pete’s older brother and her then boyfriend, who showed up with some of the more sane players to help her. But that wasn’t an option this go around, she doubted Pete even knew what was happening.

He was getting closer and she had to do something. When he got close enough, she grabbed a handful of dirt and threw it at his face. He sputtered curses as he clawed at his eyes. When he stumbled forward, she kicked out and swept his feet out from under him. 

Then she was running, not sure which direction she was headed, just moving. She didn't stop until a body collided with her from behind. She struggled to push him off of her, taking an elbow to the face and a knee to the ribs. But she gave as good as she got, head butting him hard in the nose. He howled in pain as she scrambled to her feet again. 

She could see the moon now, full and high in the sky. She used its light to guide her to a shadowed portion of the crops, dropping low into a crouch. She breathed quietly through her mouth as her heart hammered loudly behind her ribs. She heard him cursing and stumbling around a few feet away. He called her every name he could think of before finally giving up and heading back the way they came. 

She waited until she could no longer hear him muttering under his breath, before taking off again. Up ahead, the low beam of a flashlight caught her attention and she doubled her pace. She was about to call out to them, when Chad emerged in front of her. He tackled her and her head hit the ground with a loud crack. The world spun again, taking her with it. She tried to scream but it came out as a moan.

“That's right bitch.” He whispered harshly in her ear. “You’re mine now.”

“Get the hell off of me, you bastard.” She managed weakly. Her ears were ringing and she wondered if she hit something harder than dirt. “I said, get off!” 

This time, the command was stronger as adrenaline pushed her body to fight. She slammed her palm into his already injured nose and felt a sickening crack. He flew back cursing and spitting blood. She crawled towards to light she had seen, using every ounce of strength she had left.

“Help.” She whispered over and over again as she edged closer to the light. “Help, help me.”

Suddenly a figure emerged in front of her, the light of their flashlight blinding her. But she didn't care, hell she would take Whitney at this point, at least he wasn’t trying to kill her. The figure approached her, slowly at first then broke into a run and dropped to their knees beside her. She felt a cool hand on her face and neck, and they cursed as they drew back a blood stained hand. 

“He's still out here.” She whispered to her savior, trying to sit up. Strong hands pushed her back down and she fought them instinctively. But then a soothing voice washed over her, and she relaxed instantly.

“It's ok, I’ve got you.” Lex whispered softly, ripping off his coat and laying it across her body. “You're safe now.” 

“Lex?” Her voice cracked and she felt like crying, or maybe she already was. She still couldn't make out his face but she knew he was here, really here. She was so tired of running, tired of fighting. She had almost slipped away, until Chad’s voice broke into their stillness.

“Ain't this a pretty picture? Richie Rich, come to save the day.” He stalked towards them, face a bloody mess, grinning savagely.

Lex stood fluidly, moving in between Chad and Emma’s prone body. He moved like he had in the mansion that morning, like a barely contained predator. Ready to react to any weakness. 

“You won’t touch her again.” He growled, making the hair on Emma’s arm stand up.

Chad swung first, barely missing Lex’s face. Lex came right back with two punches to Chad’s gut that had him gasping. A low kick had Lex dancing away, still keeping himself between Emma and her attacker. He came back with an upward swing that connected soundly with Chad’s chin, causing him to sway like a tree in a storm.

But where most would've stopped, Lex kept going. He slammed both fists down onto Chad’s back, causing him to hit the ground. Then he was on top of him, slamming his fists into him over and over again. 

Emma crawled toward the men slowly, calling Lex’s name as she went. He wouldn't listen, he just kept pummeling Chad in the face. When she finally made it to them, Chad was a bloody mess, and so were Lex’s hands. She carefully wrapped her arms around Lex’s chest, pulling him away with as much strength as she could.

“Lex, stop. It's over, please.” She whispered into his back, as he calmed at her touch. He stilled beneath her, breathing heavily as the wind blew through the field. She was sure Chad was dead, until he made a gurgling sound beside them. 

Lex pulled out a cellphone and called 911, pulling Emma to her feet as he stood. She heard bits and pieces, assault, drunk, ambulance. Her heart beat increased at the last part and she turned sharply to meet his gaze.

“Lex, please. Don't make me go to the hospital.” She begged as he steadied her. 

“Emma, you are injured. Severely.” He reasoned as he eased her into his nice clean car. 

“Not that bad,” She tried through a wince. “Ok so maybe a bruised rib or three but I swear I don't need-”

“You are going and that's final.”

“Please.” She pleaded, her eyes filling with new tears. “If I go, they'll make me call Uncle Jon and I can’t do this to them.” 

His crystal eyes cracked under her stare and he shook his head. Whatever he wanted to say he kept to himself and simply waited for the ambulance to arrive. The paramedics looked her over as Lex gave a statement to the police. She was questioned briefly but it seemed Lex had given them what they needed. Chad would be charged with trespassing and assault, though she wondered how much would stick since Lex had almost killed him.

____________________________________________________________

Eventually, they were alone again. It was a silent ride as he maneuvered the car expertly on the winding backroads. She stared out the window for a while, until she saw familiar landmarks leading home. 

“No.” She said abruptly, shattering the silence like glass. He slowed to a stop on the side of the highway and glared ahead defiantly.

“What does that mean exactly?” He asked in an exasperated tone.

“I … I can’t go home like this.” She replied as she gestured to her torn clothes. “I can’t face them right now.”

“Then where will you go? You refuse the hospital, you refuse the comfort of your own bed, where do you want to go Emma?” He was breathing fast now, and she could see his hands tighten around the steering wheel.

“I don't know, somewhere safe. Somewhere with no questions.” 

“Would you … look the mansion is huge. There are plenty of bedrooms.” He began slowly. “You could stay with me, just until you feel like going home. If you want.”

“Are you sure?” She asked softly, eyes flickering between his face and his bloody knuckles.

“I wouldn't have offered if I wasn't sure.” He answered, pulling back onto the road. They spent the rest of the ride in silence, just the sounds of the car and their breathing. She sighed in relief when the mansion rose over the horizon.

“Your should probably call someone, tell them you're ok?” He suggested, nodding at a landline as they stepped into the living room. 

She made a conscious effort not to sink into the very inviting couch as she picked up the phone. She called Chloe first, hoping she had made it home from the dance by now. Luckily she had and while suspicious as always, Chloe agreed to lie if the Kent’s called. Then it was time to call home. 

Martha picked up on the third ring and Emma almost wished she hadn't. She fed her the lie with surprising ease and promised to be home after breakfast the next day. Once she’d hung up, she slumped to the floor with her head in her hands. Breathing erratically until a cool hand rested on her shoulder. She looked into his eyes and saw pain, the same pain she had seen that night they said goodbye. She didn't know what to do with that as he offered her his hand and pulled her to her feet. 

“So, would it be rude to ask for a shower?” She asked weakly. It had been a long night and she wanted Chad’s stench off of her as soon as possible. 

“Of course not, let me show you to a room.” He replied as he led her up a flight of stairs. They were torture on her sore legs but she made it to he top somehow. He brought her to an ornately decorated room with soft carpet and a king size bed. She didn’t have time to take in much as he quickly led her to the bathroom and tuned on the faucet.

“I’ll see if I can find some clothes that will fit you.” He announced as he made his way back to the bedroom. He turned abruptly at the door and fixed her with an intense look. “I’ll be across the hall, if you need anything.”

She simply nodded numbly as he slipped out the door. She listened closely, making sure he was gone before slipping out of her dirty clothes. Taking a moment to examine her injuries, she sucked in a sharp breath. Already, dark bruises dotted her left side, small cuts and scraps covered her arms and face. One eye was trying to swell and she had definitely twisted her ankle. All in all, it was better than she expected.

She slowly slipped under the water, moaning as the warmth soaked into her bones. She scrubbed away the dirt and dried blood carefully, trying not to injure herself further. But as the water washed over her skin, she watched as the cuts on her hand closed. That was new, she had always healed quickly, a side effect of her abilities, but she had never watched it happen so fast. Even as she reexamined herself after exiting the shower, the bruises had already turned a sickly yellow. 

She exited the bathroom consumed in her thoughts, and smiled when she saw the clothes laid out for her. A light gray, long sleeve shirt, a pair of black knit pants, and a pair of socks. She towel dried her hair and pulled on the shirt, inhaling deeply. It smelled like lavender. 

No sooner was she dressed, then a knock came at her door. She opened it hesitantly to find Lex, dressed in simple pajamas that resembled her own. He made it look good though, like he was wearing a fine tailored suit. She moved to let him in and realized he was holding a first aid kit awkwardly. 

“I don't exactly have a doctor on hand or medical training, but I figured something was better than nothing.” He said sheepishly as he set it down on the bedside table.

“It's fine,” she said as she sat down on the edge of the bed. “I can make do, but I should really look at your hands.” 

She gestured to the bed and after a few moments of awkward silence, he conceded. He walked over slowly and sank down beside her, not looking at her directly. She picked up one of his hands and examined it, clicking her tongue as she she did. He had obviously cleaned them, probably took a shower as well, but they needed to be treated properly.

She opened the kit and went to work, applying ointment and wrapping them in gauze. She hummed as she worked, a song her father had sang to her when she was sick. She noticed him staring, his half lidded eyes following her movements almost absently. When she was done, she gathered both hand in hers and examined her work. 

“I'm sorry.” He whispered suddenly. She looked up in confusion but he was still staring at their hands. “I didn't mean to … to scare you. To lose control and go after him like that. I’m not sorry I did it, just that you had to see it.” 

He moved to leave but she held his broken hands firmly. He turned to her slowly, questions in his eyes as she stared into them. She cupped his face in her hand, like she had that morning. It felt like a lifetime ago. 

“I'm not, sorry I mean.” She began as she held his face, trying to convey as much meaning as she dared in her gaze. “I just wish you hadn't hurt yourself because of me.” 

She smoothed his cheek with her thumb, and again her brain screamed that there should be a scar. But there wasn't, just smooth, pale skin. She sighed and continued the slow circular motion, humming again as she did so. She noticed his breathing change, deeper and more consistent. His eyes were closed, and he leaned into her touch. 

They stayed like that for a while, just existing with each other. It felt more intimate than anything she’d done before. She would've stayed like that forever, but as her eyes drooped as well, she knew it had to end. 

“Lex.” She called softly as she continued her caress.

“Mmmm?” He mumbled shifting further into her touch.

“Lex, we should get some rest.”

“Mmmhmmm.”

“Stay with me?” It was barely a whisper, but his eyes shot open as if she had screamed. 

“Just until I fall asleep.” She added as he looked at her in confusion. She dropped her hand as he collected himself. “I know its going to sound crazy, but part of me is afraid, that this is all a dream. That I will wake up and still be there… alone with him.” 

Her hands trembled as she stared off into nothing, replaying the night’s horrors in her mind. She stilled when he took her hand in his, cradling it to his chest. She could feel his steady heart beat, and matched her breathing with his.

“Of course I will,” He breathed, his voice deep with exhaustion, “and I’ll be here when you wake up too.”

She smiled as he released her hand. He helped her turn down to bed and she crawled in stiffly. It wasn't until she heard the scraping of chair legs that she turned back to him. He had pulled a high back chair, that was obviously made for decoration and not siting, over to the side of the bed. She took one look at it and shook her head.

“That's ridiculous, this bed is huge. I don't want to cause you any more trouble tonight.” She said as she pulled the cover back on the opposite side. 

He stared at the bed like it was a poisonous snake, coiled to strike. But when he looked at her, he almost seemed determined. He slowly nodded and made his way around the bed. Carefully easing in, making sure not to touch her as he did so. 

“If this makes you uncomfortable…” She began, but the look in his eyes said enough.

She sighed and sank into a comfortable position, edging closer to the middle out of habit. She noticed his breathing change again and she resumed her humming. Not too long after, she heard soft snoring coming from his side of the bed. 

She chanced a peak then, just to satisfy her curiosity. He was laying on his side facing her, one arm curled under his head. She reached out to touch him and thought better of it. It was a sign of trust, this arrangement they had made, and she didn't want to break it. So she resigned herself to sleep, turning over on her side. 

______________________________________________

Lex knew this was a night of terrible ideas. It had started with staying late at the plant with Gabe Sullivan to discuss new plant regulations. Then it had devolved into chasing a memory around a cornfield. But then, if he hadn't been there. Who knows what would've happened to her. 

He had been deep in thought, trying to understand why Clark had ran off so quickly, when he heard her voice. Soft and broken, but he would know it anywhere. He eased into the corn stalks, following the sound for what felt like an eternity. And then, he saw a figure lying on the ground. He wasn't sure it was her at first, but then the beam of his flashlight caught honey blonde hair and panicked green eyes. 

He had raced to her side, dropping to the ground and pawing at her until her held her face in is hands. All the while begging, ‘Please don’t be dead’. When she finally spoke, he thought he would weep with joy. And then it had been a blur of rage as he found the source of her injuries.

He could still feel that bastard’s face breaking under his fists, and her soft arms curling around him. Begging him to stop, to let go. He wanted to scream at her, to ask why she was defending the man who assaulted her. Until he noticed the guy wasn't moving, barely even breathing. And he saw her face, terror written in her eyes even as she smiled weakly at him. She was afraid, afraid of him. He never wanted her to look at him like that again.

Now, she was in his house, in his clothes, sleeping in his bed. He supposed it could be worse, as he examined his bandaged hands. She could be lying in a hospital bed right now….or. He refused to allow his mind to sink any further.

His thoughts were interrupted by a sound, possibly the one that woken him in the first place. A soft whimper, coming from the other side of the large bed. He turned again to the source of his current torment. 

Her back was to him, but he could see tension in her slim shoulders. She moved restlessly, almost running in her sleep. He knew this was why he was torturing himself, to ward off whatever memories or dreams that haunted her. 

But he didn’t know what to do. He had no experience with comforting people. Should her wake her, shake her out of her dream? She made another noise, closer to a sob this time, and he felt his body move toward her instinctively. 

He slid closer, entering her space slowly, as he carefully wrapped an arm around her waist. He moved her hair from her face and caressed her cheek, soothing her with his touch. She slowly calmed under his ministrations, breathing slowing with each stroke of his hand. 

“It's all right,” He whispered as he stroked her hair, “You're safe, I’m here.” 

She sighed at the sound of his voice, turning into him and melting into his body. He marveled at how she seemed to fit into him perfectly, like a puzzle piece he hadn't known was missing. And he would never admit, even to himself, how much that thought terrified him. As he drifted back into sleep, he could swear he heard her whisper his name.


End file.
